One worrying upshot from that Oireachtas golf outing last week is the long-term ramifications for politics in Ireland. When Rachel English announced on Morning Ireland last Friday that Minister for Agriculture Dara Calleary was no longer available for interview, it was like the starting gun for what has turned out to be the most extraordinary episode in Irish politics in recent times. A nation vented its collective fury, and rightly so.

As details unravelled in slow motion across the weekend, the one question that recurred was simply: “What were they thinking?”

We may have all walked into a shop over the summer only to discover we’d left our facemasks in the car and quickly exited to retrieve. We’re all allowed a free pass when it comes to momentarily “forgetting” our obligations in the pandemic. But how on earth did nobody shout “stop” in Clifden?

It is inconceivable that out of the 80 or so attendees, none were reminded by a family member or friend, as they loaded the golf clubs into the boot of the car, about the restrictions we’ve been subject to for six months now. Were there 80 more due to attend that had the common sense to leave the golf clubs in the shed?

It also begs the question about the role of highly paid advisors. What exactly do they do if they don’t advise politicians and parties in the midst of a pandemic not to attend an event like the one last week? Seriously, how is it, out of all the very well-paid advisors floating around both houses of the Oireachtas – after which this golf society is named – that not one got wind of the knees up in Galway?

Or, maybe they did. And maybe they advised. And maybe they were ignored. Many political advisors previously worked as journalists. In politics, optics matter. They would know well the Liveline effect of being seen at an event like this. Did arrogance override common sense? When Hacker asked Sir Humphrey in Yes Minister if it was part of his job to help ministers make fools of themselves, he replied: “Well, I never met one that needed any help.”

I’ve never subscribed to the lazy populist view of politicians. I have more respect and admiration for the work they do. But this makes it impossible to defend. I’m with everybody who fumed and felt outraged by the duplicity of last week’s golf do. Some might think that the punishment of heads rolling didn’t fit the crime, but explain that to somebody who had to cancel their wedding or stay away from a family funeral.

It’s another example of how the growth of other political parties and independents has less to do with what they’ve achieved, and more with how the old guard is eating itself with a large helping of arrogance and entitlement; epitomised by the prize-giving dinner. Voters are being driven away in spades; making it easy for the opposition to make hay. The irony is, this was a 50th anniversary dinner in memory of a deceased MEP, attended mainly by older, suited men – some no longer relevant in national politics. And yet, look at the damage it’s done to the future of Irish politics.

That’s what I mean about the long-term ramifications. There will always be dangerous extremists running for election who make lots of noise and no decisions, but how do you attract young, articulate people into real politics when stuff like this happens?

Another extreme

Whatever about the fury surrounding golfgate, we should be more outraged at the gathering in Dublin on Saturday; of half wits who don’t believe there is a pandemic. Really scary, people.